


Security

by LadySilver



Category: The Listener (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-09
Updated: 2014-01-09
Packaged: 2018-01-08 02:29:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 599
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1127276
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadySilver/pseuds/LadySilver
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Oz is going to learn how to protect himself, no matter how long it takes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Security

**Author's Note:**

  * For [leoraine](https://archiveofourown.org/users/leoraine/gifts).



“You know, it's a good thing that Toby Logan is an upstanding kind of guy.” Oz thunked his beer bottle back on the coffee table and turned his attention back to his project. “Again.”

Toby sighed. “There's no reason to do this, man. The odds of you--”

Oz interrupted him with a wave of his hand. “Slim to none. I know, I know. Telepaths are rare. In your whole life, counting you, you've only known three.” He quoted the last in a formal accent like he was narrating a documentary. “Maybe four,” he added, brandishing an arched eyebrow at his friend. “Your brother probably got the gift, too, since you and your mom both have it.”

“Who knows where my brother is.”

“And that, my friend, is exactly my point. Telepaths don't exactly go around announcing themselves, and I, for one, want to be prepared.” _Just because you don't misuse your powers..._

“Just because I don't misuse my powers, what?” Toby asked. His hands, wrapped around his beer bottle, tightened fractionally in anticipation of Oz's answer.

Oz wagged a finger at him as if reprimanding a wayward child. “See how easy it is to slip up? I wasn't paying attention there and should've been. PINs, SINs, phone numbers, bank account balances: people _think_ about that stuff.”

“I know what people think about, Oz,” Toby commented, dryly.

“Sure. And if you were a different sort of person you'd be plucking that information right out our heads and putting it to use.” Oz nodded significantly, then picked up one of the padlocks he'd brought to practice on. If Toby _really_ bothered with what people were thinking, he'd know how often Oz had lain awake at night contemplating how easy it would be to be that kind of person. And he'd know the revelation that had shocked him awake that morning: he could _learn_ how to protect his thoughts from that kind of person because he, unlike all the other poor souls out there, had a way to practice. “Since you _never know_ who's lurking out there, reading your thoughts, a smart man wouldn't have any thoughts worth reading.”

“Oz, man, come on,” Toby started, then his brow creased. “Wouldn't have any thoughts worth reading?”

“You know what I mean: a person's gotta think about the things that don't matter so that you don't think about the things that do.”

“Alright, OK,” Toby answered. He watched Oz idly spin the dial on the lock and Oz watched him back, silently daring him to offer more protest.

But, while Toby could read minds, Oz prided himself on being the expert at reading Toby. He watched the flicker of expression play across his friend's face, and how Toby's thumbs rubbed the condensation on the bottle until it smeared into dehydration. And then the instant when Toby capitulated.

Oz dropped the padlock back on the coffee table with a thud and picked up the keypad he'd used to open the proceedings. While it wasn't hooked up to anything, the physicality made it easier to practice doing one thing while thinking another. “So we keep going until my thoughts are as mysterious as a tech support navigation tree.”

Toby settled back in his chair and, finally, took a long drink. “Fine, but you're buying the pizza.”

“I'm not going to the bank again until my security is locked down.” The smile Oz couldn't quite contain ruined his attempt at a helpless shrug, not that he didn't try. “I don't have any cash, so I can only buy if you pay. Come on. Let's do it again.”


End file.
